


Unburdened

by frau_kali



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Blow Jobs, Canon Disabled Character, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Future Fic, M/M, Masturbation, No Safeword, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Kissing, Tumblr Prompt, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-25
Updated: 2016-02-25
Packaged: 2018-05-23 06:15:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6107650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frau_kali/pseuds/frau_kali
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"And I understand the burden of playing the role you currently play must be taking a toll even you cannot fully comprehend."</i>
</p><p>Silver helps his captain set aside his mask and show his vulnerability for a short while. Written for a tumlr prompt - "Flint gets all turned on when Silver is in charge."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unburdened

**Author's Note:**

> Well, here we are again :) Aside from that one lil James/Thomas tumblr ficlet, this will be my first entry in this fandom that has eaten my soul. I was aiming for something slightly rough but also slightly fluffy with this, so I hope the anon who prompted me is pleased with it, as I hope all of you are, too :)
> 
> In order to try and be canon compliant, this is set in some vague future time, though it assumes some things about what happens during the rest of season 3.
> 
> I should add that although there's no safe word, Flint does fully consent, and Silver doesn't do anything he isn't completely on board with.

The captain's cabin aboard the _Walrus_ was empty at the moment, but Silver knew Flint would be returning to it shortly. Perhaps he’d even seen his quartermaster sneak in here. Actually, he probably had, Billy may have as well. After all Silver’s days of approaching unannounced were behind him, as Flint had said once before.

A long time ago he probably wouldn’t have provoked Flint like this, not so openly, but not anymore, not now that he could see the man so well.

Questions might’ve been asked about this trespassing if the crew weren’t already aware that their quartermaster and their captain had become good friends. Oh, there were still sometimes disagreements, points where Silver took the side of the men, though not to convince them that he was on their side, they already knew that. Sometimes he was even able to talk Flint around. Sometimes. Other times they butted heads until the both of them worked through that anger in the form of biting kisses and rough caresses. Other times their couplings were of a softer, kinder nature, or somewhere in between.

As far as Silver knew, and he made it his business to know his men’s attitudes, none of them were aware of how far beyond “friends” and he and the captain were now. Or how, behind closed doors, the fearsome Captain Flint sometimes got on his knees and submitted entirely, enthusiastically, to his quartermaster. Because sometimes Flint needed it, and Silver always knew when.

The things they’d done to defend Nassau recently made today one of those days. That was why he was in here. Why he, with the slightest of smirks, moved unevenly to the desk and sat down in the chair. Flint’s chair. That ought to get his attention. 

He hissed sharply as the end of his metal leg thumped against the deck and the leather boot rubbed uncomfortably against his stump. The pain wasn’t as bad as before, but walking with it still proved difficult and he still, adamantly, refused the damn crutches. Flint had noticed, of course, had begun insisting Silver take off the boot more often than not. And not just during sex, either, but every day. He also insisted Silver clean the wound, too, every night, and sometimes even did it for him. Silver had tried to resist at first, said he didn’t need to be taken care of it, he was not a child, but Flint’s damnable stubbornness won out in the end. Besides, no one else knew, except maybe Howell, and he _had_ allowed himself to lean on Flint on the Maroons’ island without complaint, so he really didn’t have any good arguments again it.

The thing that surprised him more, though, was the thing he thought of now as he undid the buckles of the boot - Flint didn’t care about the injury, didn’t care that the man he shared his bed with was no longer whole and completely able like he used to be. It was such a heady feeling, to be so wanted by someone and shown such care, more than he’d ever gotten before. And yet not so much that it meant they never did anything rough or hard, just enough that Flint made sure to be careful when they did. Silver was eternally grateful for that.

To Flint and to the men, Silver was more than the invalid that the rest of the world would see him as. And that was something he never wanted to lose. 

Although he had long given up trying to convince himself his attraction to Flint and this thing they now shared was _just_ about that or supporting his captain, giving him what he needed, in the war they were now waging against civilization. 

Silver pulled off the boot with another hiss of pain, setting it aside on the floor. With his pant leg still rolled up, he found himself once more surprised that the sight of the scarred stump didn’t bother or unnerve him as much as it used to. Silver had never cared what other people thought of him unless he needed to change their minds to get what he wanted, but the loss of his leg had been a great blow to his confidence. At least initially. But Flint’s influence and the men’s faith in him had changed that.

He leaned his head back, closing his eyes and letting his mind wander to other things. 

Things like what he was going to do to the captain, how Flint would submit to him. The man could snap him in half in half if he wanted to, could shove him down and just _take_ whatever he desired. Yet instead Silver knew he would hand over that control and show his vulnerability, clearly so exhausted from keeping everything bottled up.

Of course, he was half-hard by the time Flint arrived, just from _thinking_ of all the possibilities.

The captain threw open the door, stopping in his tracks when he spotted Silver and where he was sitting. Good, just like Silver intended. He wasn’t coy about it, either, allowing himself to drink in the sight of the other man, watching as Flint closed and locked the door. 

The captain’s mouth briefly turned upward with just the hint of a smirk, the kind Silver had seen considerably more of since they’d begun this. He was beginning to suspect, to hope, that those smirks were meant only for him. It was a good look on his captain, and he liked the glimmer of happiness it contained, hoped to make it more than a glimmer.

Of course that look was gone a second later, replaced by something steely that Silver knew was at least partly put on. The hunger written on Flint’s face really gave it away, too, and Silver was well aware Flint must’ve known he’d see it, just as he saw so much about his captain, more than anyone. “I know what you’re doing, coming in here without asking, sitting in that chair. If you’re so desperate to have me fuck you on my desk, then all you had to do was ask for it,” Flint said, his tone somewhere between amused and enraged. 

Silver, too, was amused. It always went like this at first, every single time. “While that _does_ sound good, I’m sure you know that I wouldn’t be using this strategy if that’s what I wanted.”

Flint crossed the cabin, stopping beside the desk, Silver’s whole body fully in his gaze now. The quartermaster noted how he couldn’t keep his eyes off him. “What, then?” Flint demanded. “You think some part of this room _belongs_ to you, just because---”

“Are you really going to play this game with me? I know you’re smarter than this, that you know exactly what it is you need and that all I want is to give it to you.” Silver’s dark eyes met Flint’s gaze. 

“What game?” Flint’s incredulous tone only encouraged him, of course, as did the way the captain pointedly ignored the rest of what Silver had said.

“The one where you pretend to get angry and fight against what you want to satisfy your pride.” Before Flint could protest again, Silver continued: “I saw you watching me give orders to the men this morning, I saw the _look_ on your face.” He smiled, parting his legs, his booted foot sliding along the floor, every inch of him feeling heated under Flint’s hungry gaze. Loving that look, knowing what he was stoking in the other man, he kept talking: “You really expect me to believe that you didn’t want me to pull you in here at the first opportunity so you could get on your knees and take my cock in your mouth?” 

Silver parted his lips, wetting them with his tongue while one hand slid over his thigh to slowly palm himself through his breeches, a clear and open invitation. “Or that you’re not imagining it right now, remembering the last time you had it?”

The captain gave a short bark of laughter. “You with your fucking mouth again.” He moved closer, clearly trying to keep his gaze on Silver’s face and not what his hand was doing. “You won’t make me get on my knees for you with a few filthy words.” He stopped before Silver now, leaning forward to place one hand on the desk and the other on the arm of the chair.

From their positions alone, Silver knew the power dynamic was not in his favour, but quite apart from the fact that he couldn’t really stand right now, he enjoyed defying expectations. He turned his head to meet Flint’s gaze, refusing to give an inch. 

He brought a hand up, sliding it around the back of Flint’s head before he tugged him forward into a bruising, hungry kiss. The captain’s hand was in his hair in an instant, yanking his head back just as he shoved his tongue forward into Silver’s mouth and Silver, of course, responded in kind, pushing forward to tangle their tongues together. 

It was like doing battle, but in the most intimate way possible. Every brush of lips, every slide of their tongues felt glorious, pulling him into a pleasured haze. Flint was like fire and every part of Silver needed the heat he offered. As always, his captain’s kisses made all the others he’d gotten in his life pale in comparison. Flint had clearly worked out exactly what his quartermaster liked, just as Silver had done the same in return.

He wouldn’t confine this to kissing though, much as he loved the feel of Flint’s lips on his, the scrape of the captain’s beard against his chin, or the way their tongues battled. He reached out, giving Flint’s cock a squeeze through fabric of his breeches, noting he was half hard already. Flint groaned, parting their lips a second later. They both took a moment to catch their breath as Flint returned his full height, his hips moving forward against Silver’s hand.

“Maybe I’m not the one who wants your cock in my mouth, maybe you want mine instead. I remember how eager you were for it before.” Flint smirked, his hands working to undo his breeches.

“You might have me there, at least partly,” Silver said, licking his lips again as he reached into the captain’s now open trousers. He’d never deny how much he enjoyed tasting Flint’s cock, having it in his mouth, anymore than he’d deny that he loved when Flint fucked him, though neither would happen right now, it wasn’t why they were in here. He wrapped his fingers around the other man’s length, stroking him, feeling warm flesh harden fully beneath his hands.. “Except you haven’t gotten yourself this excited thinking about my mouth.” 

His fist worked over the length of Flint’s cock now, pulling lovely gasps from his captain’s lips. Silver could tell he was close to cracking the reluctance his captain always wore before submitting. And to that end, he continued before Flint could make another token protest.

“You don’t have to pretend, not with me,” there was a tender, soft quality to Silver’s voice now. “I see you, I’ve always seen you, I know your burden, it must be worse after recent events, the things we’ve had to do to keep Nassau safe. But I also saw the peace you felt the last time you let go, when you stopped wearing your mask, set Captain Flint aside. You remember that, don’t you? “ He smiled softly, his free hand reaching up to brush over Flint’s. “You were so blissful, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything quite like it.” He paused, his eyes shining, thumb sliding over the tip of his captain’s hard cock. “And honestly, right now nothing excites me more than the thought you letting me take charge.”

A smile came to Flint’s lips at Silver’s admission while his hips rolled steadily forward into the hand working him over. In an instant the mask had dropped, his quartermaster’s words clearly enough to convince him, just as they usually were. He gave no verbal affirmation, but Silver knew him well enough to see what had changed, his ability to read Flint like a book had only increased with their continued closeness.

He released his grip and leaned back, not wanting to get Flint _too_ far along.

“ _John_ \--” Flint started with a groan of frustration, quite clearly about to ask for more, but Silver silenced him by holding up a hand.

His voice turned commanding then, the same tone he used when giving orders to the men: “Get on your knees, James.” He did not miss how Flint’s lips parted at the way he said his name, of course, and made a mental note of it, storing it away for later. For now he gestured to the spot between the desk and the chair, just enough room there for Flint to kneel before him, between his parted legs.

Perhaps in the future this would be all it would take, perhaps Silver would merely have to give an order and Flint would obey as he does now, dropping to his knees before his quartermaster as if their roles were reversed, as if Silver was now the captain and Flint his loyal right hand. It was not, of course, a role he wanted outside of this room and the bedroom in the country house he rented from Max in Nassau, but seeing Flint snap to obey his commands always sent a thrill through him.

Flint looked so very striking now, sitting on his knees, his breeches open and his hard and probably aching cock exposed. Silver drank in the sight of him, kneeling there, awaiting instruction. He looked nothing like the feared pirate captain now, he was merely a man who needed and wanted to be taken care of. To Silver, he was also more than that, and he felt a great burst of affection at the thought of how important Flint now was to him. These days it surprised him far less than it used to.

“Now, before you touch me, here’s what we’re going to do,” Silver said, his voice a bit more relaxed now. He didn’t even try to hide how aroused he was, either. “You’re not to touch yourself until I tell you to, or to come until I want you to. You’re going to put your mouth on me first, with both hands exactly where I can see them, and you’re not going to tease me either. Since I know how eager for it you are, I’m going to come down your throat, and after that I’ll take care of you. Or rather, you’ll take care of yourself by doing exactly what I tell you.”

By now Flint’s eyes were glassy as he stared up at Silver, his cock still beautifully hard. Such a shame they weren’t back in Nassau where they had a proper bed, where they could’ve done so much more than this, and he could’ve made Flint take off his clothing, but the possibility of their being interrupted precluded that. 

“Do you understand, James? Is this what you want?” Silver added softly.

“Yes...” Flint whispered in reply, licking his dry lips “God, yes.”

Silver smiled, giving an assenting nod, then reached to undo his breeches, but Flint’s hands got there first, pulling at the ties with a eager quickness that made his quartermaster’s breath hitch. Using his foot to brace himself against the floor, while his other hand held the chair on his left side, he lifted his hips up to allow Flint to tug his trousers down over his hips enough to get access to what he wanted.

With that done, the captain’s hands came to rest on the outside of his quartermaster’s thighs. He moved closer, too, so Silver’s cock was inches from his lips, but instead of taking it in his mouth right away, he turned and placed a soft, open mouthed kiss on Silver’s left knee, just above his stump. His hand moved back and fourth there, too, gently, always stopping at just below the knee, but never fearing to look, to see. 

Silver’s left hand came to rest on Flint’s now, while his left hand moved to slide over the captain’s shaved head. Sometimes Silver missed the long red hair that used to reside there, though he’d not actually ever had the chance to run his fingers through it or to grab hold of it and pull the way Flint always did with him. Nevertheless, digging his fingers into the captain’s scalp usually won him a little gasp, just as it did right now, as he wordlessly directed Flint back to the task he’d been given.

It was Silver’s turn to gasp, then, when lips closed around the head of his cock, Flint’s tongue laving over the crown, tasting everything on offer there and causing Silver to bite back a loud moan. He’d gotten better at keeping quiet, found he wasn’t quite as vocal as he would’ve been a year ago or more, but Flint had a skill about him that was such perfection. The first time he’d done this, Silver had been struck just by how damn good Flint was at it. Although that was before he knew the man’s full history, before he knew of Thomas Hamilton and what Flint had shared with him.

From here the captain wasted no time, taking the whole of his quartermaster’s length into his mouth, swallowing him down almost instantly. Silver had to do more than bite back a moan now, he had to put a hand over his mouth to keep the sound at bay. 

He stared down at his captain, stared at the sight of Flint between his legs, lips stretched around his cock and mouth gloriously full. Seeing him like this was almost too much for Silver, and he breathed out a long sigh the moment Flint began to pull back. Silver was tempted to thrust into Flint’s mouth (he could have, if he used his hand to regain the leverage on his left side), but he decided he rather liked sitting back and relaxing while Flint did all the work.

And what lovely work it was. It made Silver quite content to sit there, keep his hand on the captain’s head, and watch as Flint moved up and down his cock, sucking him down and then pulling away, tongue dragging along the underside, knowing just where to lick to draw soft, breathy moans from the man above him, to set every nerve alight.

Like his captain, Silver had been looking forward to this all morning, had gotten himself all wound up over it, waiting for the perfect opportunity when neither of them were needed on deck. So he knew he wasn’t going to last as long as he liked, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t draw it out.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he whispered, “go slower, I want to savour this.” He sighed again when Flint obeyed, his movements slowing, mouth loosening just a bit before he pulled back almost entirely to suck and lick at the tip, swallowing the precome gathered there. One of his hands moved, too, probably to grab the base of Silver’s cock, but Silver caught it before he could. “No,” he said, “your--” He groaned as Flint’s tongue circled around the sensitive spot under the head. “ _God_ \-- Your mouth is all I need right now.”

Even with the slower pace, Silver couldn’t keep himself back for much longer. Not when while he watched Flint pull off entirely so he could lick a long, wet stripe over the hard, aching length of Silver’s cock, eyes dark and glassy. God, he looked so fucking beautiful like this, so blissful and yet so needy at the same time.

“I was right, wasn’t I? This is just what you needed,” Silver whispered, trying and failing to keep his voice from sounding too rough and wanting. He was so near to the edge now, every ounce of pleasure Flint drew out of him like fire, thrilling and heating every inch of him. He realized, somewhere in this euphoric haze, that the pain had left his leg, too, the utter bliss and want he felt far more powerful.

Flint gave a soft groan in affirmation when he took Silver’s cock into his mouth again, sucking him down faster now. He no doubt felt how the flesh throbbed beneath his lips and tongue, clearly discerning how very near Silver was to going over. The quartermaster would not complain about this initiative, either, he cared more now about coming than he did about drawing this out, though he was sure Flint had an ulterior motive in this.

He didn’t much care about that at the moment, though, not when he felt the head of his cock hit the back of his captain’s throat, when he felt Flint’s swallowing around him, so fucking greedy for it that Silver couldn’t hold back anymore. A soft groan from his captain was then all it took to send him over the edge.

“Fuck, _yes_ , James--” was the only warning he could give before he once more covered his mouth to quiet the long, loud moan that escaped him as he came hard, all the tension built over the morning finally pulled out, crashing over him like a wave of warm water.

And Flint-- _God_ , Captain Flint, the fearsome pirate, just kept moving, kept sucking him through his orgasm, swallowing every drop of come given to him, as if he had a near unquenchable thirst.

After a few seconds of universal bliss, in which Silver felt nothing but sweet euphoria, he gave his captain a small push to make him pull away before everything became far too sensitive. Silver’s breaths came in pants now, his chest heaving with each one, his brow damp with sweat.

He let his gaze drop to the man still kneeling before him, his captain, who sat back slightly now, his hands still on Silver’s hips, and his cock still hard. Silver allowed himself a moment of satisfaction at the knowledge that sucking him off had kept his captain in such a state.

“You must be aching to be touched by now,” he whispered, speaking only when he was sure his voice would be steady again. “But you haven’t begged me for it once, haven’t even said please.” He knew Flint’s pride gave him an aversion to that, one he was working on dismantling, but that would take time.

Flint tipped his head up in slight defiance, but he said nothing, his eyes still gassy.

“Yes,” Silver whispered, “I know you’re not going to. It’s alright, perhaps you will eventually, but after making me feel that good, I want to help you take care of yourself.” Oh, he’d be lying if he told himself he didn’t want to feel Flint’s hard cock in his hand, didn’t want to tease him and bring him to the edge and hold him there, or take him in his mouth and enjoy the taste of him. But no, he had another idea, one he wanted to test, to see how well Flint would follow his orders, knowing the other man got off on that.

Flint’s head tilted slightly and Silver recognized the question in his eyes, but neither of them said anything of it. Silver leaned forward slightly, reaching out a hand to trail it over the captain’s face, smiling at him slightly before he sat back, putting on the same air of command he did before the men.

“Touch yourself,” Silver said softly, but with that tone he knew Flint loved. The captain snapped to obey the command, a hand falling between his legs, fingers wrapping around his length, while the other grasped Silver’s hand still, resting on his left thigh. “Slowly, loosen your grip, I want to draw this out,” Silver added, gaze flickering from the captain’s face to where Flint stroked himself, watching as he obeyed, his grip no longer so tight. “Good. You’re going to start and stop when I tell you to, while I watch, and you’re not going to come until I decide to let you.” He gave Flint’s hand a soft squeeze. “Is that alright?”

The captain nodded, then swallowed, looking at Silver with eyes full of want. “I--” he began, but stopped, and Silver could hardly believe he had him like this, laid bare and vulnerable before him.

“Yes? It’s alright,” he said, voice gentler.

Flint swallowed again. “Are you going to keep talking?”

Silver tilted his head, knowing just where this was going, but despite knowing his captain best, being able to read it quite well, there was no room for doubt here, so he asked: “Is that what you want, James? To be talked through this?”

“Yes, I want to hear you.”

Silver smiled and, to his slight surprise, Flint’s lips turned upward in a small, soft smile in return. It was nothing like those confident smirks or angry grins of his, but something else, something hidden and.... affectionate, like in this moment he ceased to be Captain Flint and became someone else, someone only Silver could see and know.

“And here I thought you wanted me to think you didn’t like my mouth,” he said, voice light but pleased. He liked to talk, knew he was damn good at it, and he knew that Flint was going to come from following his instructions and listening to his filthy words as much, or more, than he was from his own hand.

Flint made no reply, instead he merely stared up at his quartermaster with the same glassy intoxication as before, his lips parted to pull in shaky breaths. Still, Silver noted the barest amount of desperation there and felt determined to stoke it into something more the closer he pushed his captain to the edge.

“Slower,” he ordered, licking his dry lips, watching as Flint’s fingers moved over the tip of his cock to slick up the shaft with precome now gathered there. Remarkably, though, he obeyed, his hand barely moving now, barely touching, and Flint groaned in obvious need and frustration.

“My god,” Silver whispered, “you take instruction so well.” He knew _why_ , of course, had discerned Flint was a military man long before he knew his story—it was there in the way he moved, how he carried himself reminded Silver of the naval officers he’d seen at port during his days in the merchant service—but he said nothing of that. 

“I want you to move between fast and slow now.” He smiled, watching as Flint’s hand began to work over the shaft in quick, even strokes before slowing down seconds later, and then repeating the pattern over and over again. What a beautiful sight it was, if Silver hadn’t just come he’d be hard all over again from simply watching this.

“I wonder how far I could push you,” he said, tilting his head, his thumb rubbing back and fourth over the hand Flint had on his thigh, “the things I could order you to do... Maybe I’ll let you ride me, but tell you when to start and stop, or which pace I want you to go at.” He paused, waiting, enjoying it as another low groan escaped his captain.

“ _John_ \--” the word came out strangled and desperate and Silver couldn’t remember ever hearing the man sound so wrecked, but wonderfully so.

“You want me to, don’t you?” Despite knowing why, knowing how good it felt to be unburdened, Silver wasn’t sure if he’d ever stop being surprised by just how much Flint was willing to submit to him once he realized he needed it. Or, even more, at how vulnerable the man looked. “Faster,” he added, determined to bring Flint to the edge, “stop slowing down.”

At once the order was obeyed, the captain’s hand working his cock quickly, fingers pausing only for the seconds it took to gather more precome and to touch those sensitive spots around the tip. “ _Yes_ \--” Flint gasped out, head falling back against the desk behind him. The way he softly moaned the word made it clear he wasn’t just answering Silver’s question, but expressing pleasure at finally getting to work himself right to the edge.

“Then I will. When we’re back in Nassau, the next time you need this, I’ll have you like that. And I won’t just tell you when to start and stop, which pace to set, but _exactly_ how to move so my cock touches all the right places inside you. When I let you come it won’t be from anything but that, I won’t even touch your cock. You’ll be entirely at my mercy, do everything I ask, and I know you’ll love it.”

Flint moaned, louder than he should have, any concerns he had over this obviously gone for the moment, though Silver didn’t much care right now either. The captain’s eyes closed, his gasps growing louder and more broken and Silver knew he was there. 

“Stop!” The quartermaster said, watching as Flint choked out a moan, and then a sob, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes as he opened them. Yet nevertheless, he followed the instruction, hand moving away entirely. He was flushed, his cock probably hurting now, so close to coming that only a single touch would likely tip him over.

“ _Fuck_! John-- Let me--” This, the man who commanded words as well as Silver did, who must’ve given one hell of a speech to the Maroon Queen to win her support was now so incoherent he couldn’t string words together. And Silver had done it to him. It was remarkable, but also a bit close to going too far, with those tears.

Silver’s expression softened, along with his tone. “Come here.”

Once more Flint obeyed, his movements slow while he pushed himself up as close as he could get to Silver without standing or climbing into his lap. Silver leaned forward, laid both his hands on Flint’s cheeks, thumbs brushing away the tears at the corners of his eyes before he leaned to kiss him softly, slowly. Flint returned it, both his hands coming up to grasp his quartermaster’s arms, clearly starved for his touch.

When Silver pulled back, he pressed their foreheads together, one hand falling to Flint’s cock, fingers sliding along the crown, then down, as he whispered, ordered: “Finish. For me.”

With a soft, sobbing gasp Flint went right over the edge, spilling onto Silver’s fingers as he fell against his quartermaster, his eyes closed once more. Silver leaned back, stroking over Flint’s head with his clean hand while he let the other rest on the arm of the chair. After a few moments, Flint’s knees gave out and he fell back down so he was sitting on the floor, his head resting against Silver’s right thigh, eyes open and so blissful now. Still, Silver didn’t move the hand from his head, didn’t stop touching him, he knew how much this meant, being grounded after it was over.

They sat like that for a while, the cabin silent but for the sounds of their breathing and the noises of the ship and the ocean outside. Eventually, Flint’s eyes cleared, his expression no longer so distant and blissful. He turned his eyes to look up at his quartermaster and Silver gave him a small smile. “Are you here again?”

“Yes,” Flint whispered. He leaned over then, kissing softly along Silver’s left thigh, all the way to his knee, before his hand replaced his mouth as he returned to his previous position. His fingers moved over Silver’s skin softly, always stopping before the stump, paying him loving attention. That soft, affectionate smile was back when Flint met his eyes. “Thank you.”

Something warm knotted in Silver’s chest; Flint had never thanked him for this before, not out loud. Instead, once they’d separated he’d always insisted this wouldn’t happen again, he wouldn’t submit again. The way those times played out seemed like some left over remnant of the earlier days of their relationship, when Flint was still unsure of this intimacy. Yet now he said nothing like that, made no move to get up, either. Progress, then.

Silver smiled back at him, sighing softly at the touches. The pain hadn’t yet returned, not even as a dull ache, and he knew it was all thanks to this man and the things they gave each other.

His survival instinct occasionally still cried out for him to stop this, to pull away, warning him that tethering himself to someone like this, that _caring_ and supporting and needing would never end well for him, especially not with Flint. It was too late for that now, of course, it probably had been for a while. As Silver had told Billy before - _he had me there, too._

He needed Flint, just as he needed the men outside, and as they all needed him. Moreover, he cared for his captain, felt this deep, longing affection for him, more than he’d ever felt toward anyone in the whole of his mostly solitary existence.

There was no escaping this, not anymore. And it didn’t matter if there was, because Silver didn’t want it to end, not ever.

_Fin._


End file.
